


Hanging By A Thread

by freebees



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freebees/pseuds/freebees
Summary: "So this is how it ends, then."Quick post-Hellbent fic I whipped up.





	Hanging By A Thread

**Author's Note:**

> MSA DISCORD THIS ONE IS FOR YALL

So this is how it ends, then. Being tossed into a pit of purple stalagmites, his arm electrocuted into a state of malfunction, his murderer a glowing pink and purple skeleton with fire for hair.

This is the most absolutely terrifying thing that he could ever imagine happening to him, and it only becomes about a million times worse when he sees a glimpse of his old friend’s face on the ghost. Arthur can’t process it, at least not immediately, and his grip on the phantom figure’s arm slackens.

No. Not a phantom.

Lewis.

As the ghost--his best friend--lets him go, sending him plummeting towards certain death below, Arthur can only stare at him with disbelief splattered across his face. His right arm is still outstretched, reaching up towards the cliff, growing higher and higher above him, and his mechanical arm is angled underneath him.

Right before Arthur closes his eyes, bracing for impact, he could swear that a look of regret had crossed Lewis’s skeletal features, but that couldn’t be right. Arthur suddenly feels his body stop in midair, and his first thought is that he’s dead. That he was killed on impact. His body, if he even still has one, is simultaneously hot and cold, and he’s afraid to look.

But when he does, he’s surrounded by a soft purple glow. He can’t tell what’s going on; it’s as if he’s surrounded by the shifting roots of a giant violet tree, beams of yellow sunlight occasionally slipping through. He realizes, then, that they aren’t sunbeams; they’re eyes, and they’re hearts, and they’re attached to the near-featureless ghosts that have been accompanying Lewis since Arthur, Vivi, and Mystery had stepped into that ghostly mansion earlier in the night. They cradle him, their slim figures weaving together to break his fall.

When Arthur finally musters up the courage to look back at the top of the cliff, Lewis is gone. When his gaze returns to his surroundings, so is the rest of the cave. He’s lying on his back in the parking lot of his uncle’s garage, his spine uncomfortably pushed against the hard concrete underneath.

Eyes bleary and head foggy, he sits up, holding his now-useless left arm against his side.

Behind him, he hears a shot.


End file.
